


the art of swaying.

by lycorisrxdiata



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, Two Shot, i'm here to deliver, jasmine this isn't yasriv, jayceriv needs to exist, that's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 08:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycorisrxdiata/pseuds/lycorisrxdiata
Summary: Riven was never big on the galas, but Jayce is about to change her mind on that. Riven/Jayce, Rated for general audiences, rating may go up if there's a demand for a second part.





	the art of swaying.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 'Jasmine, this isn't yasriv. are you okay? are you sick? is the world ending?'
> 
> i know,i know! i actually do ship Riven with a good number of champions ( Darius, Lucian, Nami ), and in some distant far-away land, i've written Katarina/Riven, but it takkes a lot for a ship to move from 'i like this' to 'this is all i'm going to tweet about for the next month.' Riven/Jayce is the ship i'm going to tweet about for the next month. i think there's a lot of potential in seeing them as a pair who were/are things they wanted to be ( the poster child and the Defender ), but later realize(d) that it's a role they've been shoved into. i also just happen to think Jayce is a handsome fucker and you know what? i'm just here to be the best me, yknow man? ( i know you know. ) 
> 
> EDIT: after some mulling over, i'm just going to leave this as a drabble-y sort of one-shot people can come and enjoy at their will unless i get a lot of requests saying otherwise. 
> 
> enjoy! ♥

Galas had never been Riven's thing.  
  
Her time in the military proved that; whenever the High Command felt it necessary to host their 'events,' they'd have their Generals & their commanders out in full force, each one indulging in the rarity of dressing in something not armor.  Among that, she had to fare with the nobles and assure them that their coin was still fueling their beloved Empire ( but never saying so, anything more than strained small talk was pushing it ). What pleasure could be gained from something so _forced_?  
  
Still. As her eyes rest on the sea of bodies filling the floor in pairs, she realizes not all was bad. She'd got to put on the dresses she used to admire through shop windows, wear make-up only the girls in the Ivory Ward could afford. The wine itself isn't bad, either; it aided in her people watching, made that one couple's graceful strides seem like art in motion, or another couple's stumbling worth a good giggle.  
  
Maybe alas weren't her thing, but they were starting to be - if not for any of those things, then just because -  
  
"Bored?"  
  
Those words disrupt her muddled train of thought. She doesn't need to turn her head to know whose deep, baritone voice it was. Few here could ever sound like Jayce.  
  
"I would not say so." Swiveling the remains in her wine, " You Piltovians know how to put on more of a party. "  
  
" I wouldn't even call this a party. " He joins her side now, one hand on the railing as he looks down. She chuckles in turn.  
  
" They are sort of just swaying, aren't they? " Pause. She finishes the contents of her glass. " But I give them credit for **moving.** Back home, I am certain most Noxians have two left feet. "  
  
" Are you one of 'em? " She turns her head towards the Defender.  If she didn't know better ( and she does, she thinks ), he had the ghost of a smirk on his lips. " You know, with the two left feet. "  
  
" Please. One could do all this swaying even with two left feet. "  
  
" I'm not convinced. "  
  
Before she can retort, Jayce is unbuttoning his jacket. It's then discarded on the nearby chair.  
  
" What are you doing? "  
  
" You said you can sway, right? So we're gonna go sway. "  
  
" What, no, I am not - "  
  
But she's afforded no choice; there's just a wink sent her way before he finds her hand and leads her down the stairs. The pair manage to part enough people to find their own spot on the floor.  
  
Not long after, they start their waltz; his hand finds her lower back. Her hand finds his shoulder. Their free hands then meet, her fingers curling around his palm as she's drawn close.  
  
_Left, right..._ It's easy to follow the sway of their bodies when they stayed mostly in place. This leaves Riven ample opportunity to study her 'captor.' Here she makes a note of how in-place brown locks were, not a single hair out of position ( though it seemed due for a trim. ) There, she notes the piercing blue of his eyes, and how his gaze snaps to hers as if caught stealing...  
  
Then, an urge. Something violent  & sudden seizes her and maybe - maybe - later she can blame it on the wine, but right now she can only pin it on the cologne, on the warmth radiating from him.  
  
Before she knows it, foreheads meet. She finds herself melting more into those eyes, two breaths merging into a single, synchronized one as lips threaten to touch. Just as she begins to close her eyes -  
  
" Not here. "  
  
" What? " Her gaze is wide-eyed, lips parted as she tries to reach for her next words. When they come, a brow furrows. " Is it because of the giopara? "  
  
" Partly. " As if to quell her, he gives her hand a squeeze. " But maybe more so that kissin' you here...I might not stop once we start. "  
  
_I might not stop once we start._   She sucks in a sharp breath at the words, at how they're said with that drawl he's so good at hiding...  
  
" Then why are we still here? "  
  
" Why are we? " He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. " Let's go. "  
  
A kiss - however brief & fleeting - is placed on the shell of her ear before he leads her out by the waist, hand still rested on the small of her back. Never mind that the giopara might be watching, no threat of what she was doing with their beloved Defender could kill the thrill of all eyes on them.  
  
Slowly, but surely, Riven thinks she could get used to galas like these if it meant him, and the promise of what would come.


End file.
